#this is the result of his best efforts?
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Today in Gaza (May 11, 2024), a small fraction of the many reports tonight:
(Blurring mine:)
#gaza#palestine#free palestine#israel#dead child tw#us politics#joe biden#this is the result of his bear hug old school diplomacy?#this is the result of his best efforts?#this is the result of the bombs he gave them and the diplomatic cover he provided them#the report that came out yesterday about how they're not going to change policy?#this the result of that#I hold responsible every person who's spent the last seven months focused on voting for biden instead of on stopping this
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KDJ's lack of 'talent' while learning skills from Lycaon (and later Kyrgios Rodgraim) really drive in the fact that he's got this far solely by swindling coins out of the system and investing them in his stats. Learning a skill through traditional means is not his cup of tea and it's so fun and refreshing to read a story with a protag who actually cannot benefit from a training arc
#orv#orv spoilers#orv liveblog#liveblogging#yoo sangah learned the demon language quickly cause she has put effort into developing language learning as a skill#jhw is good with a sword because she has put time and effort into kendo#lhs has high stregth and endurance even before blossoming because of his army training#even lgy actually spent time learning about bugs and bug behaviour he shows that in the movie theater arc#when he correctly identifies the titano's species#also lgy's encyclopedia knowledge helped kdj fend off the trex#all their skills are earned via some form of training and meticulousness even if that was before the story begins#but kdj did one thing with devotion that is read twsa in its entirety#and as a result the best swindler was born who doesn't even NEED a shounen training arc to be strong lmao
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I can't get over how Jimmy is such mundane, natural destruction. In order to preserve Curly's reputation and escape the consequences of his actions, he purposefully crashes the ship to kill them all and they all survive the aftermath. When taking over the role of Captain and genuinely trying to keep them all alive he both intentionally and unintentionally ends up getting his crew killed, one by one. He tries to keep Anya out of his guilty conscious entirely, absolutely unable to face what he'd done to her unlike with everyone else, yet his subconscious still manages to drag his repressed feelings and the recognition of his own delusions and what he owes her to the surface despite that. His act of forcing them all into a murder-suicide with the crash was partially committed to keep Curly's name unstained by the blame of his own crimes, but when they survived he pinned the blame on Curly to preserve himself regardless. He puts Curly in the pod so that he can survive, as a final act of friendship and atonement, but there is no guarantee that Curly will make it due to Pony Express being dead and generally apathetic to the wellbeing of their workforce, potentially leaving Curly in hellish pain he'll have to endure for 20 years until he can finally die instead.
He literally just can't get anything right, no matter how hard he tries. And I think that's so brilliant.
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#jimmy mouthwashing#he actually drives me insane the more i think about him#everything he does results in the opposite effect that leaves him and especially the people around him in a worse situation#honestly the only thing he might get right is his original motivation if curly is never found (and it's not like he can testify if he is)#that the events that happened will all be remembered as a tragedy. the tulpar crew was never found. no one survived to tell the tale#despite what must've been the best efforts of its acclaimed captain#in an ironic twist he might've gotten what he wanted in the longrun. he just had to actually suffer through it for months on end to get it#anyway jimmy drives me insane and i had to get it out#wait i already said that XD#momento rambles
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the way digimon does conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: chef’s kiss <3
the way sonic idw handles creating conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: *wilting flower*
#keyword: adding#in digimon conflicts come about as a result of independent viewpoint differences#ie takuya vs kouji. taichi vs yamato#or (since i just watched 02:the beginning) lui and ukkomon’s conflict is SO GOOD#it BUILDS to something. lui and ukkomon’s disagreement builds up to: they need to communicate. they both come from a good-faith angle#ukkomon so desperately wanted to make lui happy and failed to look closer to see what WOULD - and lui didn’t know how to express#what he actually wanted to ukkomon. or try to reach out to ukkomon in turn instead of basking in his life finally going ‘right’#but then not as much in idw gives me that good feeling of ‘ahhh they built to this and it is so nice’#or when conflict is created it isn’t because despite best efforts people clash and have to work together#it’s when someone does a stupid and someone else has to pick it up#it means a lot when you see kouji driven to press takuya to the wall and see them shout at each other#because they both have to realize that with words they will never convince the other of their viewpoint.#even though they both think the way the other looks at things will get the group killed#and of course it makes sense that the group would follow takuya. he’s their heart. their core#takuya’s the reason tomoki stayed in the digital world and junpei and izumi find confidence being there because he’s there rallying them#and in this case that good trait winds up being wrong. he gets everyone captured by the enemy and thinks theyre all better off if he wasn’t#part of the group from the start. but THAT isn’t true either - he just needs a BALANCE of his excellent helpful determination and willpower#and seeing things as they are and not as he believes them to be - more like kouji#he WAS wrong but not for HAVING the traits he had - for leaning too much on them#or (also going to a media im currently engaging in) sundered star. things go bad between people a LOT but it’s not frustrating.#it’s SATISFYING/ENGAGING seeing feferi leave eridan and watching eridan go insane and give in to the horrorterrors. of course it couldnt-#-go any other way for them. eridan wouldnt change until he realized he could lose feferi and feferi wouldnt bring him any real consequences#-to make him consider that until she was leaving and would never come back. and it was never her fault that leaving eridan lead to-#-catastrophe and devastation. it just happened as a consequence anyway#anyways i guess. if i see the characters do their best and things still fall apart it’s better than#seeing an idiot plot or characters written to be worse than they were to make conflict happen#with takuya he wasn’t suddenly bad or misjudging everything. he just didnt have to deal with negative consequences for misjudging before-#-because they hadnt met someone like duskmon that they COULDNT eventually beat before. even gigasmon who wrecked them all at first-#-was beaten once they had beast spirits and were on equal footing. so takuya assumes the same for duskmon without realizing that#they arent on the same level. so the issue didnt come from nowhere - it just comes to a head now
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he sees it. and you’re terrible at hiding it.
not only was it extremely obvious by the changes with your body, your breast are bigger, your skin is paler than usual, foods you loved before you turn your nose away from, the frequent trips to the bathroom, bla bla bla…
but despite that you try your best, and he’s aware you just want to surprise him. you had been trying for months and months and months with no results, both of you beginning to feel a little discouraged.
best despite your efforts he knows.
he can see the little blue flame of cursed energy tucked safely within your womb. he can see how overwhelming it is, and so he subtly tries to support you and make sure that you don’t know that he knows.
he gives you more back rubs, he buys you more loungewear to laze about the house in, he take over your missions for you, he gets you saltine crackers to leave as a “late night snack” on your bedside table. after you fall asleep, he leaves you gingerale he opened earlier in the night so it would be flat for your inevitable morning sickness.
satoru gojo is nothing if not diligent in the care he provides to the mother of his child.
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#satoru fluff#pregnancy#oneshot#jjk x reader#jjk scenarios#satoru x you#dad gojo
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everytime i think about arthur bennett i think about the airport bathroom nap. gently smoking. recently almost killed. having the absolute Worst fucking time. im too tired to give a full analysis but i also keep thinking about when grizly said something derisive about pathetic characters and them being fan favourites. he can have his own opinion idc- but i also think that it's Notable how i only got attached to arthur after he completely fucked up his entrance in ep 1, and more attached when he terrified that lady with the serial killer vibes, and Because of that was able to appreciate the awesome awesome moves of surviving a whole team of vampire hunters. its the BALANCE thats so so important. you can't have a character that's always perfect, always doing x y z thing right and stoically, because then it doesn't matter when they're doing things right. why should i care about this character if i know theyre going to go in there, say something mildly wise, and then saunter coolly back out with wild explosions behind them? whatever.
but ARTHUR. because he is an rpg guy. is trapped by the whims of the dice and the world. he's the idea of a cool, suave vampire mentor placed into a world where approaching a women in a car park at night is an extremely terrifying thing to do. there are consequences to his actions!! he's not perfect!! he's just a guy who thinks that appearances are important. he has spent so long vamping it up that interacting with humans is difficult for him. he faces problems and overcomes those problems because he is competent (anya; airport sunlight) NOT because he's cool and cool things happen to cool guys. he is desperate to find a cure. his flaws and failures have turned him into a guy, not a story's mechanism, who feels emotion, who does really catty things, who gives up so much that he prides himself in, and that matters. because he is capable of actual failure instead of conceptual, dry, trope failure, it matters when he succeeds, and it gives the audience the opportunity to root for him as a character instead of someone's idea of a character.
idk this is mostly sparked by me not liking arthur so much in the beginning, but i really started to appreciate him as he settled into the story. go vamp boy go relive extreme loss and then get stuck in the airport bathroom. ill be dining cheerfully on the character traits that have gotten to shine because of it
#to private#<- just in case i wanna find it again at some point#this is my tiny blog i dont think its gonna go anywhere#but there are certain character archetypes/approaches to roleplay that i Do Not Like#which arthur has managed to sidestep entirely and im fascinated by how he did that#he's doing his best !!#and his best isn't a superpower#so its Actually Satisfying when his efforts get good results#<- there that's a good summary for this whole fuckin thing lmao#the suck
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Me at Makoto as he rebuilds Hope's Peak
Oh I’m a sucker for content about Makoto perpetuating the cycle that caused the apocalypse in the first place because it’s whats been expected of him and taught to him, like at the end of dr3 anime how he becomes the principal of the same establishment that did HORRIFIC human experimentation and perpetuated a system that crushed anyone deemed ordinary under its weight. The school ends up taking no blame for its very real and intensely horrific acts because they simply blame despair for it, so of course now that the Ultimate Hope is running it that means all the despair is gone and now Hope will happily shine again. Neatly sweeping under the rug the covered up murders and torture done in the name of that hope before. It wasn’t the system, it was a few wildcards, trust the system Makoto, it’s all you’ve been told works isn’t it? Society has to have Hope’s Peak Makoto, the two are one in the same isn’t it?
In the end his title of Hope and the expectations forces him into the same blindfold of “for hope” that allowed Izuru to exist. All he knows and really is allowed to know thanks to future foundation is that he is Hope and has to make more Hope and that as such Hope’s Peak must exist as a symbol of that Hope. Which is why when I write post danganronpa 3 content and acknowledge the canon of “he principal now” I have characters who actively oppose and fight against the re-installment of such a system because it’s just such a bad idea but the propaganda and hope worship is so intense Makoto doesn’t even consider how it might not be a good idea.
Hope and Despair are just so entwined you cannot be an ultimate hope without understanding and being able to use ultimate despair. The two concepts are so twisted together that Junko can cause massive hope if she chooses (ie warriors of hope) and Makoto can create great despair (accidentally letting a second killing game happen thanks to his illegal terrorist rehabilitation program) not to mention hope to one is despair to another, and there really is no way of predicting which way the pendulum will point to until after the act of potential hope OR despair is taken. Ultimate Hope? Ultimate Despair? The talents are one in the same at the end of the day. Anyone deemed to be an Ultimate Hope is one thought of “greater good” away from the next Tragedy. Makoto is no different, and the system will inevitably push his morals to that point if no one intervenes.
#hes a guy whose been fed propaganda his entire life that the talent system is an inherent thing and the best possible thing#and that the tragedy was the result of a few bad apples#and as such as he has not been harmed by the system and is in fact been used as a furtherance of that system by future foundation already#he has no real base to question or fully dismiss this system as for him the system appeared to have worked but just been co-opted by evil#he is wrong but he is not wrong of malice but simply of being a privileged kid rebuilding the system that uplifted him into privilege#as he believes that system can uplift everyone and that a failing of that is the result of sabotage and not an inherent design feature#but it will not uplift people makoto has simply mistaken a ceaseless hunger that rips people apart for a ceaseless if impeded effort to hel#it may not immediately rip into people as it had been before but eventually people will die clawing at its heels as it forces them down#danganronpa 3#musings from the music manager
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BESTFRIEND SATORU HELPING YOU COPE WITH YOUR BREAKUP!!
Degradation n praising, Satoru likes you. Not proofread. I hate this sm and it was rushed but oh well
ଘ ੭ ✩‧₊˚
You made your best effort to compose yourself, attempting to suppress the sobs that threatened to overwhelm you as you gently rapped on the sturdy wooden door looming in front of you. Hastily trying to put yourself together before you were met with Satoru’s familiar, handsome face.
His eyes gleamed with excitement as soon as he caught sight of you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"What are you doing here so late babe, Shouldn't you be uhhh—having boring phone sex with your little boyfriend?" he quipped—his playful chuckle hinting with pride and maybe even jealousy laced with it.
His expression quickly changed to concernment when he saw the tears escaping your eye line. Instantly, his face softened and he moved closer, gently gripping your shoulders to get you to look at him.
"Woah, are you okay, sweetheart? Did something happen?", he asked worriedly as warm tears streamed down your face, he gently moved one of his hands to the back of your head, guiding your face into his chest for a tight embrace.
"What happened? C'mon, talk to me" he softly mumbled, feeling your sobs resonating against his chest, you sniffled and finally broke down, "No Satoru, He cheated! he fucking cheated on me—I don’t know what to do”. You gripped onto his shirt tightly as you held onto him.
His mouth gaped in shock and anger as he hugged you impossibly closer, The scent of his minty cologne enveloped you, clouding your thoughts and senses as you continued to cry in his arms.
“What??? I'm so sorry sweetheart, knew that fucking prick didn't deserve you—I'm so fucking sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?"
___
“Ahh, shit gonna lose my fucking mind in this tight pussy.” he lets out a throaty groan that resonated in the air.
Pure sweat glistened from his body, his biceps, his chest, his back—all fucking sticky and damp almost as if he was working out— well it coulddd count as a workout, technically.
“No fucking way, that dumb fucker cheated on this”, he gasped, anger coursing through him as his hand instinctively gripped onto the headboard for stability while he loses himself to the warmth of your soppy pussy compressing the life out of his cock, each squeeze pulling him deeper into your core.
His white bangs stuck to his forehead as the ends tickled his face with dampness. You mewled loudly as your face distorted with unanticipated pleasure—Pleasure that you'd never thought you could ever felt before, until this day.
He had you folded in a fucked-up mating press—insisting that the closer he is to you, the better he'd be able to comfort you.
“Fuckk! Toruu~” you moaned pornographically, your toes involuntarily curling against his toned back as your knees knocked against your bouncing tits.
His beaming blue eyes piercing through you feverishly as he stared down at you—his face just mere inches away from yours. "Fuck yeahh, moan my fucking name just like that sweetheart, that's right. I'm the one pounding this perfect little pussy” he purrs softly, smirking as drool escapes your lips.
Of course, he was unhappy and worried to see his poor best friend miserable because of the breakup. But deep down, a part of him felt…relieved?
It's not like that dumb, immature scrawny bitch could ever give you what he has to offer.
Never, Never never never. You deserved better, way better. Someone like him…
“Mmm Fuckkk, Satoruuu. stretching me s’good” you cried out in pure ecstasy as the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so rawly and naturally in a way that felt heavenly —your boyfriend was never able to find it.
“Yeah? You like me splitting open this pretty pussy with my cock? When was the last time you had a good fucking like this, babe?” Satoru laughed breathlessly, his cock throbbing with each thrusts.
The bed sinking as a result from his weight as he bullied his hefty cock into you—fucking you absolutely dumb, deeper into his mattress.
Your glassy eyes were now obscured by a hazy blur, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins as your eyes rolled back—Satoru thought the sight of you like this was so so beautiful. Seeing his precious little best friend whom he loveee so much getting dumbed down from his dick etched something primal in him.
His mouth gaped slightly as he moaned, his eyes full of desire and passion. He brought his face closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin before he smashed his lips onto yours.
His mouth completely devouring you as the both of you moaned in unison, lost in the intensity of the kiss—your tongues tangling together as your tummy fluttered in excitement.
His skin stuck to yours disgustingly as your boobs bounced against his chest, your fingers laced through his hair. The sensation made him groan before he eventually pulled away from the passionate kiss.
He quickly switched positions, hauling your body closer to him so your ass could slowly be arched up—resting against his thighs as he pounded your sloppy, messy cunt at the deeper angle.
A rhythmic series of “Hahhh!” fills the room—almost like a chant of pleasure escaping his lips as his gaze is fixated on where the two of you were connected—his cock completely disappearing inside your warm core at the snap of his hips as his snowy pubic hair lightly nudges against the sensitive bud of your arousal.
“This pussy is taking me in so well, fuck he could never—dunno why you were even with him–nghh! in the first place” he emphasizes on the last word with a deep, hard powerful thrust.
“I could treat ya so much better than he ever did sweetheart, better forget about him—don't ever wanna see you crying that fucker again” he smirks down at fucked out face—so cute and pretty all clumsy from his cock.
Thick balls slapping against your asshole as your slick coats both of them, forming a slippery layer that gradually dripped down onto his sheets.
“Or don't worry, heh—i’ll just fuck you into a brainless little slut, that'll surely make you forget about him” he laughs out. His tongue dragging against his lips as his fingers kneads into the soft flesh of your thighs.
Your eyes rolled back uncontrollably to his words, it was obvious to you that Satoru had a little crush on you for a while now and fucking hated your boyfriend but hearing him actually vocalizing his feelings in such a vulnerable, intimate moment made you lose your mind.
His lengthy cock dug into your pussy in such a mean manner in the new angle—his relentless thrusts hitting your cervix over and over, making your pussy overflowing with juices all over his dick, facilitating to force his dick into you.
You squealed, feeling his finger suddenly rubbing fast circles on your clit—causing your inner walls to flutter around his shaft in a euphoric response to the new wave of pleasure that surged through your body.
“Mmmfp! Yesyesyes! don't stop, s’close” you exclaimed, your fingers tightly clasping onto the sheets to anchor yourself.
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my dick baby?” He inquires with a toothy grin, his bicep muscles prominently bulging, emphasizing his toned physique as his abs flexes because of the angle. Giving you the most delicious view of his body.
“Yes! Ahh, Toruuu” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your body trembled in ecstasy. The feeling of good sex was so so refreshing to you that you started questioning yourself why you weren’t with Satoru instead in the first place?. He was charming, rich, and funny—despite his annoying personality and teasing, he was almost perfect, but maybe because you two have been best friends for all those years, you just haven’t thought about him like that.
Before you knew it, milky white rings coated his cock—overlaying every inch of his shaft and painting his balls. “Mmmmm!” You breathe heavily, almost losing your mind as you watched Satoru’s eyes roll back at the feeling of you messing up his dick.
“Yessss, that’s it baby—God, fuck, making such a pretty mess all over me” he tried to keep his composure but he miserably failed, he just fucking couldn't, hell he couldn’t even pull out quick enough before spurting his hot cum directly into your womb, making loud squelching noises filling the room as his warm, sticky cum overflowed out of your pussy.
It was so so messy, there’s no way there wasn’t a big wet patch of cum below the two of you.
“So do ya prefer our date being tomorrow or the day after—I’d prefer tomorrow because I’m not working, plus I wanna take you out as soon as possible,” he said in a cheery, out-of-breath tone, managing to catch you off guard as if he wasn’t still balls deep inside of you.
“Seriously Satoru? We can discuss this later” you muttered with a hint of annoyance—causing him to pout in response before picking up your upper body to sit on his lap—cockwarming him.
He pulled you into a sweet, passionate kiss—his hands groping your ass as you tangled your fingers through his hair.
“Fineee” he playfully whispered—you giggled lowly, feeling his smile forming against your lips as he held you close.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#satoru x female reader#satoru x reader#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#gojo imagine#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo x female reader#satoru x suguru#suguru x female reader#suguru smut#jjk suguru#suguru geto smut#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto suguru#suguru geto#getou suguru x reader#geto x female reader#geto smut#geto x reader#jjk geto
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ᥫ᭡. synopsis : overstimulation with gojo has him unexpectedly proposing to you.
tags : smut, p in v, overstimulation, belly bulge, marking ( scratching & hickeys), slight edging, fluff at the end..?, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !
a/n : the long awaited gojo drabble 🌚!
“ nahhh, don’t do that,” satoru tuts disapprovingly, above your cock-drunk state, while having your body folded in the most meanest mating press. his hand presses down on your stomach bulging with his dick print, making you sensitively aware of every inch of him ruthlessly thrusting into you— although your beyond fucked out at this point. “ keep those pretty eyes on me, baby.”
he can’t control how his dick twitches inside of you at your submissive situation. you look past breathtaking, staying compliant as you let him have his way with you for the nth time this night. you’re so fucking tight— satoru can’t tell if he’s being dramatic or if you’re trying to cut off all circulation from his lower body.
you cry, gripping at his muscled back desperately as you feel the bulbous head of his cock make out with your cervix sweetly. “ satoru— you’re so b-big, fuck! can’t take it n’more. . .”
“ ngh, y-yeah?” he’s cut off from his own sentence when he thrusts further into you, his cock mapping out every inch and beyond of your suffocating heat.
“ can’t take it? i can’t tell from how yer’ greedy pussy is cryin’ for more of me,” clouded cerulean eyes travels back down to your belly, and how his hefty size noticeably protrudes from within your inner walls.
his calloused hand that’s already displayed on the bulge creeps down lower, where he rolls enthusiastic, tight circles on your already cum-covered clit, from the previous rounds. “ hmm, let your pussy do the talking from now on, since she’s the only one telling me the truth,” he sharply grins to himself, watching your accommodating body react to the sudden stimulation, before it’s washed away with a hungry mewl from his lips as your cunt impossibly invites him in deeper.
the environment in your shared bedroom was lustfully humid, and filled with the obscene sounds of skin on skin slapping, and combined seductive moans like a melody. despite your weakened state from the previous onslaught of orgasms before— your mouth waters with dangerous anticipation. achingly, longing for another sweet release of the night.
satoru’s vision shifts to the frothy ring of your joint releases, clinging around the base of his cock alluringly. “ shit baby, i was g’na propose to you first, but it seems you’re pussy beat me to it, heh.” he knew you were going to ignore his drunken secret-confession, given that every time he’s overstimulated, he always makes childish promises to marry your pussy as he fucks himself into you near the brink of unconsciousness. but you don’t have a clue of how serious he is right now.
your effort to hold onto him evident as the skin on his back is painted a burning red as a result of your harsh scraping. you feel his muscles twitch under your nails as you inflict light, cat like scratches beautifully down his back.
“ s-shit,” his hips stutters while his lips suck drastic hickeys on the expanse of your neck— marks that scream his name, scream that you’re all his. “ marry me, marry me p-please,” the thumb on your clit speeds as if he’s focusing his impatient anticipation on your puffy clit.
“ you’re not s-serious,” you whine underneath him, raking your nails deeper into his skin and following the dipping curve of his back. “ jus’ saying it cause you’re pussydrunk, toru,”
“ fuck— ‘m not, s-swear. have the ring picked out, suits you the best,” his feverish kisses return back to your mouth. your orgasm is so close, tightening and building up as your pussy is past the point of broken right now.
your orgasm is so close, you can taste it. one more rock of his hips will surely have you leaking around his imposing length— except, it doesn’t come right away. the delay in pleasure has you glaring at satoru, and him staring right back, all traces of playfulness gone. “ i won’t let you cum until you say you’ll marry me.
you blink, “ are you serious right now, satoru?”
“ dead.” he replies back, quick.
satoru is a spoiled asshole, holding your orgasm over your head until you comply to his stupid proposal that he asks every fuck.
“ i don’t b-believe you right now, you always say that dumb shit when y’re gonna cum,” you try to wiggle your hips for some indication of the excitement from before, but with your straining position and the obvious size difference, it does no avail.
“ well, believe me now ‘cause i’m serious,” the weight of his eyes and words discreetly has you shifting away from him, but nothing goes undetected in the stupid god-like eyes of satoru as he pulls your body back down and presses on the outline of his dick making itself known on your stomach. “ i belong to you, and you belong to me. so why no—“
“ fuck! i fucking do, satoru, just fuck me already!” you cut him off with a shriek, the feeling of your orgasm slipping further from you is absolute torture. nonetheless, he grins, all traces of playfulness coming back while his hips greedily wind up again.
“ thought so baby,” he leans over to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss as the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm builds back up again. “ that didn’t take long at all. admit it, you wouldn’t know what to do without me or my dick, wifey.” satoru’s broad body envelopes your smaller one completely as he slots his entire being against you; finding a new pace to fuck you in recklessly.
“ toruuu, ‘m gonna cum t-toru! ‘s so good, all f’me!” your wall spasms around him, sucking him in and in— before you messily drench his cock in your salacious fluids. your moans grow silent as your draining orgasm flushes over your body. “ oh my— f-fuck,” your nails dig in the surrounding skin of his back when he doesn’t show signs of slowing down. even through his own orgasm, he still manages to deeply hump against your body under him. your combined cum starts to froth, sliding down his thighs and settling on the stained bedsheets.
in your shared aftermath it’s quiet. you enjoy the warmth of his body on top of yours as you come down from your high. you barely realize that he’s reaching over in the bedside drawer to grab the small box that contains the ring to put it on your finger, until you feel it.
“ . . .you were serious, huh?” you smile, stretching your fingers out, adjusting to the new look on your ring finger.
“ about you? always been.” he grabs your hand to kiss the ring.
#sugutiva.#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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tell your baby, that i'm your baby. (a loving family, an unpalatable desire drabble)
ft. yandere damian wayne x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere superfam
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
— masterlist !
this is written in regards to one of my drabbles, i can't help but sigh at just how good the angst is for damian in this series.
because in loving family, unpalatable desire, you pretty much exclusively nickname him "dami, baby," from day one right after meeting him. you say it not in a way that you wish to overstep your boundaries at simply being his stepparent - you're aware, despite the ache in your chest admitting it, that you'll never come quite close to talia's standing in his heart, it's simply impossible with how she raised him her entire life before being dropped off in bruce's care - but because you find the boy adorable if you look past his intent at trying to murder you at every passing glance.
or maybe it's just you trying to cope with the pain of your situation, that you consider them all your beloved children, yet never being once called their parent throughout your entire marriage that breaks apart the illusion of a happy home life, that this wasn't the marriage you wanted at all; that you'll never bear a time in your life stuck in the manor seeing their genuine smiles directed at you even if you attempt to approach as patiently as possible in hopes your presence might be accepted— even if it results in awkward laughs at your cringy jokes at the dinner table, or one of damian's weapons nearly plunging the side of your head.
maybe, it's such a struggle to keep the flicker of light alive in your body whenever all your hardships fail, and all throughout you find your husband with lipstick stains all over his white collar every time he comes home that your mind forces itself to believe that with enough trial and error, maybe one of them could eventually tolerate, rather than pity you.
unfortunately, you chose damian, the one who you're convinced arguably despises you the most, of all people living or visiting the manor to run the test.
so in all the instances you chirp out his nickname, so fondly, so eminently heard across the walls of the manor, even in the spacious expanse of the gardens could your voice be heard from miles away, all because you wish to bond with him, praising his artworks with your grating voice, to give him intricate gifts you know will be discarded in the trash in front of you; you'll be met with a stubborn glare and mean comments about how he'll never consider you his parent, to relinquish your delusions at thinking he'll even let you past his walls, and how he'll never follow through the orders of a scum like you.
which is what you're forced to deal with every single day, coupled with harsh reminders of their happiness without the need for your presence beside them.
sometimes, his reactions could be his typical harsh comments, you've grown accustomed enough to differentiate what is harmless and what borders on violence; it's enough to know when to stop bothering him despite your best efforts. other times, it would be as intense as running a sword through the strands of your hair until he chops it at the end with a threat to cut off your tongue right after if you dare call him that putrid nickname again that cuts deeper than any wound.
with every trial of becoming closer to him, results in an even widening crack in your relationship with the young boy. and eventually, with enough sighs under your breath and harsh glares from him, you'll come into terms that you'll never form a cordial bond with the young boy. it's just impossible with how he views you, sheltered and undeserving because of your family's reputation of being money laundering scum.
at that period of time, you instead chose to strengthen your relationship with the reporter who saved you one day from the paparazzi's cruel interviews, the cute man from the daily planet whose name is clark kent with an even more adorable son, jon, who welcomed you with open arms and a tight hug on your stomach, muttering about how he's so excited to meet his new parent, just when you first stepped on the doors of your affair partner's home; that was enough to relinquish any anguish you felt at the manor replaced with absolute joy at what seems to be the first time you're considered the parent, part of a family, in a completely different household.
it helps erase the shadow of doubt that you may be cursed to never be accepted into an established family with just how bright, how comparable jon was to an overexcitable golden retriever, bonding with you since day one unlike all the other insufferable moments crammed into a jam-packed dinner table— only for your voice to be discarded and overpowered by others.
you start to call him your baby instead, completely in awe at the cute freckles littering his sun-kissed skin and the country boy accent he adopted from his dad. you couldn't help but hold his cheeks in your palms and kiss all over his face whilst you kneel to his level, laughing along with the giggles erupting from his throat that creates this harmonious melody in clark's ears, who watches you scoop the boy into your arms just to swing him back and forth in cuteness aggression, just how it always should've been with you.
clark pictures the moment together, capturing jon's smooshed face shadowed by your hair whilst you look at his, no, your son with inexplicable joy, eyes crinkled and shining brightly under the halo of the sunset.
and clark doesn't even have to see just much jon loves and cherishes you at first glance.
he wouldn't even dare compare you to his late mother, never once calling you a replacement or a homewrecker, placing you upon a pedestal you deserve to be instead; because let's face it, you simply live in the manor, but your true home is where clark and jon, and ma and pa kent are at. pictures of your little family are framed in your shared bedroom for you to graze your finger upon whenever you wish to reminisce the blessings bestowed upon meeting your affair partner at just by chance.
but you shouldn't have forgotten about damian that quickly, not when jon all-too suddenly shoves that photo of you in his wallet in front of his face, it made damian's mind go off in a tangent, in both curiosity and frustated yet unstated interrogations at your sudden disappearance (your grating voice don't call out to him anymore, and suddenly, the manor is quieter; he despises that feeling of emptiness more than he does of your nickname for him) then reappearance as jon's, funny, hah—!
jon's parent.
and in moments of careful investigation does he realize—
when you're with jon, his best friend, when he spies in on you at the little farm you now live in, currently alone with someone whom you call your true son, that he comes to realize just how much that nickname means so much to him, as your voice, with that soft tone, scold his friend with that familiar warmth you always used to direct at him with the softest of gaze, an angel unlike the sea of rich bastards he meets at the galas who only communicate with him to form connections, advantages by being associated with a family of the wayne's.
it's only when you're stripped away from him that he realizes how much he relishes your sweet occupancy into his heart, how there's always been an unbidden, forbidden chamber in his heart that beats for the love you offer him that was unlike the harsh environment he was born in.
he's never been adorned with such a delicate title that portrays him the opposite of what he's raised to be; damian has always been the blood son, son of the bat and heir to the demon king's throne, but never something as fond, as unforeseen as someone's baby.
it just thwarts the spark of hope in his heart and extends the lump in his throat at the scene that plays before him, the loving nickname you oh-so carefully address him now relinquished and graced to another boy, his friend no less— who you considered yours, who he's aware is way more deserving of being called your baby rather than him, who had always denied you from the very start.
"jon, baby, you help me clean the windows tomorrow, alright, young man? it's stained with all your fingerprints!" you scold him as assertively as you can, kneeling down to his level and pinching his cheeks all while grinning at the boy. jon retorts with a tongue out his lips and a scrunch of his nose. it garners a laugh from you, one damian swore he's never heard sounded so desirable until now.
why are you calling jon your baby?
"not my fault, mom/dad! i get so excited to see you come home every time you have to return there!" damian seethes at the scene of jon's pouting and puppy-eyes looking up at you, that should've been him.
"can't you just stay here? forever?"
damian despises how he engraves the melody of your laughter in reply to jon's words, right into his eardrums, but omits the disgustingly sweet chirp in your voice calling jon, not him, your baby. his mind nips away at the memories at all the moments you addressed him too, and how he always rejected and corrected you to call him by his name like a proper person rather than a maniac pushing themself into his life.
he doesn't want to ever hear you address him, if it means it's not by his nickname that you now call jon.
damian couldn't even deny how the huge grin that stretches across your face at the sight of his best friend scalds him with bitterness, he wasn't even aware you're capable of such enjoyment, not when back at the manor your hesitant with even displaying a tinge of happiness— as if you're capable of doing so, not when he knows he's one of the main contributors for being the reason of your current affair.
and yet he wishes he could lie and say he didn't miss it, miss your expectant stare at him, the contrast of talia's comfort compared to yours, when the hugs you offer him, the gifts carefully curated to his preferences, the palpable love that never once wavered for your family that you could never call yours, they all seem like a distant dream now that you're away from them; from him.
it hurts watching you two communicate even further, for once it's him in the background watching like an outsider instead of you. for once, he understands what isolation feels like, what foreboding desires fester deep into his scarred soul that could only be cured with one of the softest cuddly hugs, the sweetest, flutter of your lashes as you stare oh-so fondly at jon like he meant the world to you, like it was only the two of you in the world embracing the light filtering through the windows, side by side, inseparable.
if there was one wish he could conjure, a desire he was trained to forfeit himself to feel that creeps its way into the depths of his guarded heart— it's that once you put jon into bed - even if it takes hours, even his heart feels like it's being squeezed out of blood watching your nightly, affectionate routine with jon; reading him bedtime stories, eating together, laughing lightly at the dinner table while you feed him your share of the plate, moments he never thought he felt compelled to spend with you - once he strikes at the perfect opportunity to talk to you, to confront your blunder of choosing them over him, of his woes towards your relationship—
he wishes, with unceasing faith, that you still love him enough to call him your baby once more.
a/n: let this blow up and i might just actually fix my schedule to give more updates. anyways, more damian wayne and jon kent content! one of my fave runs is with supersons and i love fluff paired with angst too so this is a win-win. pls leave in some comments about this series, since ngl i didn't give it as much love as i did for a&a 😭 so yes! mitski inspired chapter with more conflicting feelings. i'm still working around writer's block but everyone's undying support helps motivate me a lot!!!
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@starrydollita, @vellichorandhiraeth, @chericia, @queenofspades403, @naina326, @neerathebrightstar, @lilyalone, @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @nickey-diano, @tsuniio, @ssak-i, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lollipoppersposts, @peptox, @kdjhubby, @weirdcore-fantasy.
#🌷... yael's works#🧁... yael's misc.#series: loving family unpalatable desires#yandere#yandere dc#yandere dc comics#yandere batfam#yandere superfam#yandere superman#yandere clark kent#yandere jon kent#yandere damian wayne#male yandere#yandere angst#yandere fluff#yandere x you#yandere x reader#platonic yandere#soft yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere batfamily x reader
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Lately, I've been thinking about Mithrun and the ways he is dehumanized in canon.
Before I get started, we know that elven society is incredibly afraid of death and illness. This is obvious in how they look down on the short lived races and see them as weak and childlike. We also know that Mithrun himself had ableist views toward his brother and these values did not leave him once he, himself, became disabled. He is a product of the society that raised him, but I also think how Mithrun is currently being treated contributes to his view of himself.
Mithrun has had three different caretaking groups over the years. The first are the ones his brother hired for him. From what we can see, they did the job, but we can understand that they did not know what to do with him. No one had ever recovered from having their desires eaten so the focus was less on rehabilitation and more on keeping him alive.
Later we see Milsiril take an interest in him because of his desire to return to the dungeon. Since she did not bother to visit him for decades after finding him, we can assume that there is an ulterior motive here. Timeline-wise, this was when the majority of the canaries had just been wiped out. They needed more men, and Mithrun is set up to be the perfect single-focused soldier.
Honestly, we can assume that Milsiril doesn't really care about him or see him as a person. Mithrun is just a new project for her to play with. We can see this in how she's focused on superficial level concerns like the fact that he doesn't look nice and wanting him to be overly grateful toward her. She also talks about him like he's not in the room and can't hear her. This is a dehumanizing trait shared by many characters when talking about Mithrun.
When he finally does recover enough to return to the canaries, the military does not make any effort to accommodate his needs. We know the canaries are understaffed and the ethics are already bad, but they really did not even try to care about Mithrun's safety at all.
Entrusting a criminal with his care was questionable at best, especially when Cithis immediately took the opportunity to abuse her power over him and no one stopped her.
While acknowledging the light-hearted nature of the manga, it's uncomfortable that Mithrun was treated like a child and an animal by Cithis for her amusement. Regardless of her 'learning to respect him' later, the point is that Mithrun was taken advantage of and degraded because she believed he couldn't say no. No one bothered to do anything about this until Pattadol yelled at her.
Truly his treatment is summarized well by Milsiril here. Mithrun is extremely vulnerable to being abused by those taking care of him because he won't advocate for himself. He has one desire so he won't fight for himself in any other way.
It is obvious that Mithrun was not treated well by his caretakers and this has resulted in him identifying his needs through a disconnected and frankly, infantilizing lens.
I understand that it may have been a translator's decision, but I always thought it was interesting that Mithrun says that he's "not sleepy" which is a childish term. Otherwise, he speaks like everyone else, if not rather posh.
This, followed by the fact that he is responsive to Kabru treating him like a literal infant to get him to eat, paints a clear picture of the fact that Mithrun is not unfamiliar with being treated like this. He responds to it because he's used to it and has no desire to argue with being treated this way. When we consider the fact that the chapter started with Milsiril treating an older child Kabru in the same way, it is likely that she also did the same thing to Mithrun when he was under her care.
In these panels, we see that Mithrun does not believe that he can sleep without magical assistance, even though it is immediately refuted when Kabru takes the time to bundle him up and help him relax. Not only does he fully believe he can't sleep without external assistance, but he states directly that there is no point in him getting comfortable.
As Kabru observes, Mithrun's inability to recognize his needs applies to needs such as hunger and exhaustion, but it obviously also applies to emotional needs. Kabru just wanting to feed him something delicious and not wanting him to give up on life is the most consideration someone has given Mithrun in years.
The relationship they form over the course of a single week is enough to shape Mithrun's behaviour completely. Mithrun ignores Cithis's demand in favour of asking Kabru's opinion. It is Kabru's hand Mithrun takes to pull him out of his defeated state. It is Kabru Mithrun confessed his true desire to.
Do you realize how depressing that is? All it took was the new perspectives from Kabru and Senshi to make him consider the fact that he should keep living despite no longer needing to fulfill his duty. Being treated well could have helped Mithrun much sooner and this shift in the way he sees himself contributes to his recovery going forward.
TLDR: Mithrun has no desire to be respected, but why does that make people feel comfortable acting like he doesn't deserve it? Someone not caring about being treated well doesn't give you permission to treat them poorly. This feels like a playschool-level consent lesson: just because he's not saying no to a humiliating or degrading act doesn't mean it's a yes and therefore okay to do. Acknowledging this is the bare minimum of treating him as a person.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi spoilers#delicious in dungeon spoilers#mithrun dungeon meshi#kabru dungeon meshi#cithis dungeon meshi#milsiril dungeon meshi#there's way too much nuance to get into in a single post#but i wanted to try to get some of my thoughts out#it is like 2am though so maybe it's all nonesense#my post
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Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.
“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”
Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.
The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.
“Are you sure?”
And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.
The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.
Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.
“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”
Not ominous at all.
Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 
He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.
Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.
The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)
He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.
One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.
Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.
Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.
It’s… nice. A good break if anything.
They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.
“Hi there! Is he yours?”
Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.
“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.
He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.
“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”
Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)
“Sure.”
Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.
“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”
Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.
“Grayson.”
Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.
Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.
Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.
“Funny guy, huh Dami?”
Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.
“Come here, little guy.”
He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.
“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.
Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.
That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.
“Damian,” Batman whispers.
“Bah-mun.”
The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.
Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.
Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.
Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.
“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”
Danny says it so plainly. So simple.
Batman straightens.
“He isn’t yours.”
He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.
Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.
So Damian says nothing.
“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.
“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”
“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.
They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.
“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”
When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.
The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.
#dp x dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batman#Damian is learning to be a kid#and enjoying it#Danny finds a lone baby in an alley#the ghost that lead him there says he was left there#Danny: okay#guess I’m a dad now#Bruce is in for a rude awakening
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The Cranberries - Zombie 1994
"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.
The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.
The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.
"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!
youtube
#finished#high votes#high yes#high reblog#low no#90s#the cranberries#english#o1#o1 sweep#o1 ultrasweep#o234#popular
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The Omega Knight
Male Alpha Dragon-Hybrid x Male Omega Reader CW: Noncon, stalking, reader fucked into the mud, reader fucked so hard he pisses himself, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, stockholm syndrome, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, mating cycles/heat, two-dicked dragon-man, double penetration, knotting, biting, claiming bites, combat, medieval dystopia with shitty gender roles, praise kink Word Count: 4.9k (This is a comm for somone wishing to remain anonymous. I hope everyone enjoys it. I made it much longer than it was supposed to be.)
In a time defined by the prominence of magic, the might of kings, the power of knights, and discriminatory sex and gender views, it was extremely difficult to be an omega. They were commonly looked upon as sex objects, incubators, and the property of whoever they ended up forced to marry. Male omegas, given their rarity, were treated as particularly fragile trophies.
You were one such male omega. Not wanting their only son to be looked down upon as someone’s property or prize, your parents raised you as an alpha. They were not the highest house of nobles, but they were still very wealthy. They used their connections and power to get you the very best magically enhanced suppressants and fake alpha scent.
With a combination of careful planning, staying as far from others as you could, and suppressants you manage to become one of the knights of the realm. Despite your smaller stature, everyone thought you were an alpha given your fake scent, dedication, and skill. It took a lot of effort to push your omega body so hard, but you persevered, not willing to besmirch the honor of your house through failure. Your father helped train you, and you paid for your station with sweat and bruises.
Once you became a knight you were one of the very few who worked alone. Knights were responsible for defending the country from the more dangerous bandits and the ever present threat of highly dangerous monstrosities. As such they typically worked in groups and went on missions that could take days to weeks. But you couldn’t risk getting caught applying suppressants and fake scent while out on the road. This required you to be better trained and more skilled than anyone else could hope to be.
The result was that you were quick and lethal on every single mission, quickly racking up kills. You started out by being sent to take down bandits, as every new knight is. But that isn’t what you stayed doing for very long.
You quickly graduated to the occasional ghoul or wandering undead, though these were little more than slow moving beasts. Honestly, rarely as dangerous as a bandit.
From there you went on to put tougher foes in the ground. Chimeras, gargoyles, and the like. They were still feral but they were much more cunning and moved without the stiffness that plagued the undead.
Finally you were regularly slaying werewolves and vampires. Considered to be the deadliest of foes. The king himself had assigned you some of your tasks and awarded you medals for your courage and skill. You became renowned across the land, your name muttered far and wide for your impressive service. Though, as always, you never lingered after receiving praise or rewards. To be discovered at this point would mean enduring certain… consequences…
One day you were summoned to meet the king privately. As you passed the guards and presented your summons you weren’t nervous at all, you assumed that there was a threat to the kingdom that only you could be trusted to resolve. Probably one that was a bit too discreet to share via messenger. Something that could cause embarrassment or panic.
Your assumption was dead wrong.
When you reached the king on his throne you saw he was accompanied by one of the princes, the one who was around your age and also an omega. Prince Orleias stared at you eagerly. It was rather unnerving, though not something that was entirely foreign to you. There were many omegas that looked at you like that.
“Ah, there you are, prompt as always.”
You gave a smile and curt nod at his praise.
“Of course your grace, I would never keep you waiting.”
“I have something very important to discuss with you. You are a well decorated knight of this land and have saved hundreds of lives, if not more. You are also high born and the heir to your house name.”
He paused and looked at you and then back to his son for a moment.
“I am giving you my son’s hand in marriage. He wholeheartedly agrees.”
At this Prince Orleias crept towards you and clung to your arm, looking at you with unfettered admiration. Uh-oh.
You didn’t know what to do, if you declined it would surely enrage the king and possibly bring his ire down upon your entire family. He was not known to be an angry man, but he took note of traditions and honor as most in this society did. He wouldn’t behead you, but it would be highly offensive.
On the other hand, if you accepted, then your secret would be found out. And that deception would be received very poorly indeed.
Luckily, as if the very gods were interjecting on your behalf, a messenger came scurrying into the room to interrupt.
“Sire! Sire!”
“What’s the meaning of this intrusion!? I am discussing a very important personal matter with our top warrior here!”
“Yes sire! I beg your apologies! But we have reports of a dragon terrorizing the small town of Umbrafell!”
Your head was immediately filled with images of villages fleeing in terror as a flying beast rained down fire and fury down from above. You had to help, no one else had as good of a chance to defeat such a creature! This was also your opening to remove yourself from accepting the proposal… or at the very least buy yourself some time to think of a more permanent solution… You extricated yourself out of the clingy grip of the amorous prince.
“My king! I will go at once! It is one of the mightiest beasts in all of the world and I have the best chance to defeat it!”
You quickly dashed from the room and out of the castle and made your way home to don your armor and set out on your newly acquired quest before the king could object, not that he would have. You were obviously the best choice for the job.
Once you had your weapon, armor, and pack of supplies you set out at once on one of the knight’s horses. As grateful as you were from the reprieve that the situation had afforded you, it was still a very serious situation with the lives of many potentially in danger. You had never even fought a dragon before and it was not a fight to be taken lightly. You couldn’t even recall if any living knight had ever encountered one.
The best plan was to talk to the locals once you got to the town and ask them what exactly they had seen of the beat, find out its size, age, speed, and elemental attributes. It was probably a fire dragon, that was the most common from the old tales and songs.
The town of Umbrafell was on the southern outskirts of the kingdom. It would be a journey of a few days to get there.
You continued on at a steady pace that wasn’t too demanding of the horse but still gave you good progress on your journey. You had to stop and camp a couple nights, and stop when necessary to eat and allow your mount to rest and get hydrated, but the weather was pleasant and you made remarkable time. You arrived in Umbrafell late in the morning on the third day of your quest.
The questioning of several of the locals had you believing that the dragon was a giant beast that descended upon the villagers and their livestock, devastating entire flocks and burning to cinders entire fields. Definitely an adult dragon of fire.
The question was how would you fell such a creature? Charging in blindly was not an option. You decided drugging would be the best option. But you didn’t even know if dragons were susceptible to such things. And even if they were it probably would be far too clever to take any form of drugged bait. No, the course of action most likely to end without your smoldering corpse was to find the lair, stake it out, and wait for it to sleep before attacking.
The locals pointed you in the direction the dragon came from. A thick forested area with many hills and slopes. Not the best area to take a horse. You left your mount at the local livery stable, you paid well and knew the knightly steed would be well looked after.
You trekked through the forest for several hours, there was no telling exactly where the dragon had set up its den and you only had a general direction to search in. Whatever lodgings the dragon had found or made for itself had to be massive so you were sure that you’d know it when you came across it.
As you continued your search you cursed your omega biology. Something you did frequently. You felt a familiar tingle in your belly that was unmistakable. Your body was getting ready to enter heat. Even with magic suppressants there was just no way to completely avoid a heat. Or to hide one if someone got too close to you during one. The best modern magical marvels could do was shorten one and make it less intense.
Another reason you’d have to avoid marrying the prince. But that was something you could worry about at a later time, it would do you no good to have your mind head elsewhere while trying to locate and kill a dragon.
Little did you know that the dragon had already located you, long before you had entered its territory. The only warning you had was the swoosh of wings as he descended upon you. Your reaction was fast though and you managed to block the strike of his sharp claws with your blade. What the hell? He wasn’t a giant dragon… he was a half-breed… A race of dragon-human hybrids originally created with a magical blood pact between ancient dragons and wizards. The locals let their fear overtake them and greatly exaggerated the threat.
That didn’t mean you could take him lightly, dragon hybrids were known to be powerful and swift. Well they were rumored to be, at least. They were even less common than dragons.
A more ferocious foe you had never encountered, clawing and slashing at you with grace and brutality. The scales on his hands and arms allowed him to strike your blade with no weapon other than his relatively short claws. They were black and shimmered with each movement. They covered his well muscled arms, legs, and framed his face. To get a good strike on him you’d have to hit his face or chest.
Easier said than done. He was nearly 7ft. tall and exceptionally strong. He wasn’t making this simple for you. What was worse than that though were his mounting pheromones. As the battle went on he sweated more and more, and with no clothing other than a barbarian style fur loincloth it was easy to smell him. The musk of a normal human alpha was something you had long since learned to ignore as if it was damn near nothing, but this wasn’t like that at all. It was making you a little dizzy.
“You should just give up omega.”
His sensitive nose could pierce through your false scent. You shook your head and redoubled your focus and determination. You stared right into his fiery red eyes as you deflected a harrowing blow before tackling him with your metal clad body, opening him up to an additional attack. You slashed into his torso, causing him to recoil in pain. You pressed the advantage and stabbed him in the abdomen.
The dragon almost sliced you to ribbons before you could withdraw your weapon from him. Were he a regular man he would likely be on the ground bleeding out by now, but he was no regular man and roared as he began attacking you wildly.
Every strike was either dodged, deflected, or uselessly glanced off your armor. You got a few more solid strikes in, one on his bicep above where the scales started and another across the chest. He was breathing harder.
But for some reason so were you.
“Y-you should just give up alpha,” you sneered mocking what he had said to you earlier. Though it sounded a lot less intimidating than you had intended.
You started shaking and had to kneel down, leaning on your sword in the dirt. Pain in your stomach, a biological demand, slick rolling down your thighs beneath your armor. You were burning up. His pheromones hung thickly in the air, they had brought forth your heat much faster and harder than you had ever experienced before, completely negating any effect of the suppressants in your body.
All your experience and combat skill and taken down by a dragon’s musk and your own omega biology? It was a disgrace.
Now given the proper time to recover he used healing magic on his wounds. Combined with his already naturally enhanced healing abilities this resulted in him having only faint scars where he was previously injured. “Aww, all helpless because of your little heat darling~”
He sauntered over to you and looked down with a smug expression.
“Sorry for getting the drop on you, but you would have gotten it on me had you found me first. Anyway… now that you are a bit less feisty I think we can do a proper introduction now can’t we?”
Your heat was so strong now that you could barely focus on breathing evenly as you tried to stumble away. There was no way you could find the words to respond.
“I am Ivos, your mate. Don’t worry, I already know your name and everything about you.”
He pushed you down to your knees and kicked away your sword. At this distance his pheromones demanded your attention. He removed your helmet and started prying your armor apart plate by plate, totally scrapping the armor that had been so important to you. Soon you were in nothing but your regular clothes and then not even those as he sliced them up with his claws.
Now you were completely naked before him. The smell of his arousal was palpable. You glanced up towards him and noticed two large bulges poking out in his loincloth. He put his hand on your cheek and rubbed it with a scaled thumb. All it took was that touch for the last of your resolve to melt.
“I have been waiting for this for so long, have been following you for over a year now. Came across you taking down a horde of undead. Then watched you fight battle after battle. Scared the town because I knew it would draw you out. So strong. The only mate worthy of me. But an omega still shouldn’t be forced to live like an alpha.”
All you could do was whimper in need.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait any longer. Couldn’t hold out if I tried.”
Ivos pulled off his loincloth and revealed two large slimy cocks, proud and erect, protruding from his genital slit. He sat down right on the ground then pulled you into his lap, he grinded his dicks against your hole then stretched it with a couple fingers before lifting you up and slamming you down. Both of his cocks firmly impaled your weeping hole. You gasped in pleasure. You had never put anything inside of you to relieve your heats, you thought giving into your omega nature would be like giving in to something you shouldn’t.
He grinded slowly into you, back and forth, making you drool as you leaned against him weakly. He teased your neck with his long tongue, swirling and lapping at your sensitive gland there. Your toes flexed and writhed as he did so. This felt so good. So so good. This is where you wanted to be for the rest of eternity, on his lap skewered on both of his cocks while inhaling his smell.
The dragon wanted to take your bliss to a higher level though, he increased the speed of his thrusts into you while carefully stroking your cock with the hand he wasn’t using to caress your back. He kept at it for a while, gradually increasing the pace as he went. You came hard, panting and shaking as your seed coated his abdomen.
Over the course of the next two hours you were entirely at the mercy of his sexual desire, too overstimulated to do anything other than twitch in pleasure and drool as he broke your brain with orgasm after orgasm. You gasped as he came inside you, stretching your virgin hole to its absolute limit with not one but two girthy knots. He did what came to him instinctively, biting your neck and claiming you as his with a mark. The stimulation was so extreme you not only emptied your balls once more but also your bladder, piss getting all over the both of you.
Ivos didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact he seemed pretty pleased with having fucked you so completely that you lost control of your entire body. He licked the bite mark he had branded you with free of blood before picking you up and flying to his lair, knots still firmly inside you. He took your sword with him, figuring the blade you had come so far with may be of sentimental value to you, but he left the destroyed armor and his loincloth.
Ivos held you as tightly as he could, the cold air returning you to your senses and making you very uncomfortable. When his cocks slipped out of you and retracted back into him gobs of cum dripped out onto the forest below. He smirked at how strongly you clung to him. It wasn’t like you wanted to, but you were terrified at being up so high. You certainly wouldn’t struggle when it could mean your death if you fell.
Your new lover had made his residence in a relatively small tower abandoned beyond the hills. By the time you got there you were so sore and tired from holding on so tight, and the brutal fucking you had endured earlier, that you were in no condition to rebel. You were so obedient when he cleaned you up and fed you. It made his heart flutter, his strong mate being so good for him.
“Such a good boy~”
A grunt of defiance was all you could muster in the way of a rebellious response.
Ivos would quickly learn that you would not be staying so well behaved. You fought him at every opportunity. And he fucked you back into compliance every time he needed to. It took a long while but at least you stopped struggling at the sex. It actually felt quite amazing. And afterwards you were always so good for him.
Even so, while he admired your rebellious spirit, he wanted you to like him all the time. Not just when you were drowning in his pheromones and bouncing on his knots. He caught you the best food, took care of all your needs, brought you trinkets and gifts that would have otherwise gone to his hoard. Sometimes it seemed like you resented these gestures, you were trying so hard to not be a typical omega, and he supposed you really weren’t to some extent.
He had an idea of what to do to get you to enjoy his company more, though he could tell you were planning an escape soon. Your scent was one of someone on edge. Someone deceptive. Luckily you had no idea he could smell such a thing.
The hybrid wanted to start taking you out to hunt with him, maybe even fight some monsters. He had come to the conclusion that maybe you weren’t entirely forced to act like an alpha, maybe you enjoyed some aspects of it and he needed to ease back a bit on catering to you as if you were a princess.
But he had to get you to give up hope of escape before he could trust you going on long outings, not to mention letting you wield lethal weaponry… he didn’t even let you have access to your sword...
Ivos was spot on about you trying to get away. You had spent a couple weeks with him and were constantly thinking about potential plans for getting away. You were also studying his behaviors. Testing how deep a sleeper he was, for example. You weren’t just going to bolt at the first chance. It had to be calculated.
To make your move, you needed a rainy day. The sound of the rain would help hide the sounds of your escape. Of course, you realized that even if your armor hadn't been reduced to scrap, you still would have had to abandon it whenever you made your bid for freedom. The pang of water on metal would give you away along with the weight adding to your footprints and slowing you down. You mourned its loss, not for the first time.
You also needed rain to help mask your scent from that damned sensitive dragon nose of his.
It was grueling. Having to wait for the perfect weather when you had no idea when it would finally rain. Having to act good and behave. Keep your head down and bear the sexual and romantic harassment that were damn near unrelenting. And those damnable pheromones of his. But finally, you had what you so desperately wanted.
A glorious downpour. You couldn't ask for a better chance at escape. Dark clouds late at night. Loud booming crashes of thunder. Pounding rain that would soak you in seconds. You just prayed that it would be enough to wash away your pheromones without your suppressants.
As stealthily as you could, you made your way down the tower and slunk out into the concealment of the storm. The only thing you brought with you were the clothes on your back and your sword for protection from whatever may dwell in the night. Unknown to you, Ivos had let it “fall” from the high place where he had mounted it. Didn’t want you to get hurt by something during your escape attempt.
Once you had traversed the nearby hills and then the forest, you'd be near the village he had terrorized to bait you and could get your horse there.
But one thing at a time, you still had to clear the sloping terrain and trees before you could worry about that. You went as fast as you could go without slipping in the mud or splashing through puddles, but it was going to be a long journey.
Ivos had been asleep when you crept out, or so you thought, but you couldn't be sure how long he would remain that way.
As you continued on through the rain filled night, you began to feel gradually more confident and hopeful about your freedom. You were going to make it. You had been worried if you had been able to maintain the correct course given the darkness and disorienting thunder, but after hours of hiking there it was, the edge of the forest. And when lightning flashed, you could see the town in the distance.
You were so close! You increased your pace, spurred on by the promise of successful liberation. Then, beneath the constant patter of rain, you could have sworn you heard the swoosh of wings. Probably the wind rushing through the tre-
The next thing you knew, you were on your stomach, pushed into the mud. Your sword kicked away uselessly. Your hope was shattered. You struggled, but you might as well have been a mewling kitten.
"If you wanted to play cat and mouse, darling, all you had to do was ask."
You clambered to get away, clawing at the wet ground, as he pulled you back towards him and slashed away all your clothes before sighing laboriously.
"You had been behaving so well too... I guess I'm going to have to give you a little attitude adjustment..."
Both of his large cocks protruded at full length from his genital slit. The rain had quickly faded to a light sprinkle, and the smell of his musk had quickly grown overwhelming. The smell of his desire rolled off of him and quickly had you once more slicked up against your will.
"There's a good boy~"
Your hole twitched around his fingers as he teased you by slipping them inside. You struggled to contain a whimper as you grinded your ass against his fingers.
"Beg for it."
You tried to resist, but his scent and touch had completely taken over your brain. You didn't even have a heat to blame it on this time, and he wasn't in rough. Just his aroused musk could reduce you to a throbbing ball of need.
"Pl-please just... do it already..."
You were glad the darkness of night and the grime that clung to you covered the shame on your face.
"Good enough."
He smoothly slipped both slimy cocks right on into you.
"Damn, that's gooood."
Once more, his twin pricks pounded into you at an increasing pace, filling you far better than any one-cocked human alpha could ever hope to.
Ivos smirked at your wanton moans. They were like candy for his ears. Proof that if you ever got too far out of line he could just fuck you back into obedience. With your armor and blade, you may have been a skilled combatant, but what did it matter when he could make you so helpless?
He kept right on railing you into the mud. His cocks filled you to the brim with cum as he renewed his claiming bite on your neck. You shuddered and came as he knotted you up, the girth of both knots firmly adhering the two of you together.
But he was far from done with your little "lesson." He didn't stop until both of you had come several times, and you lay beneath him trembling and barely conscious.
When his knots went down and his cocks slipped out cum splooged out all over your ass, thighs, and legs. You were covered in mud. Calling you a mess was a serious understatement. Though you were in no state of mind to care.
"Aaaah, that was great~"
The dragon picked you up bridal style and flew the two of you back home. He ran you a bath and cleaned you of all the mud, sweat, and cum.
The next thing you knew, you were in bed with his arms wrapped firmly around you. As the events from last night came back to you, you silently cursed yourself for having been taken so easily.
It became a new pattern in your defiance of him. One carefully curated by Ivos. You'd run off and, just as you were about to escape the forest, he'd swoop right in and fuck you damn near senseless. Then he'd take you back, and you'd wake up clean and in his arms.
You tried in various weather conditions, times of day, you tried fighting, you tried plugging your nose to shield against his scent, but no matter what you did it played out exactly the same.
The final time you had ever tried to escape went much like all the others, up until you neared the tree line. You paused, eyeing the divide between the forest and grassland that would lead you down into Umberfell.
Though you could not see him, Ivos was watching you intently, ready to pounce upon you at the last possible moment. A growing sense of unease gripped you. You even started shaking. No no. You couldn't go forward... Ivos would have you on the ground and fuck you into the dirt... It was all pointless.
You turned and ran back to the dragon's tower.
Ivos smiled brightly from his hidden position in the trees. Your training was complete, you knew what would happen if you tried to do something silly like running off. Now he could, at long last, execute his idea.
It did take much longer than Ivos would have liked, but the alpha was patient and ultimately he had gotten the results he wanted. Taking you out to hunt, letting you prepare and cook your own meat half the time, taking you out for some good old fashion monster slaying, not doting on you too much outside of your heats while at the same time tending to your biological needs by supplying you with all the dick and musk you could want, had gradually made you happily in love with him.
It was much better than your old life, you came to realize that. Being allowed to do things that alphas typically did and no longer having to repress your scent and omega instincts was liberating.
What’s more, you no longer had such weighty responsibilities. The burden of the kingdom’s safety, a kingdom that would have shunned you had they known your secret, was an immense weight to shoulder. And if you had made it back what would have happened anyway? Be a hermit forced to live alone as an alpha for the rest of your life? Thrown into a life of dishonor for refusing the king’s request that you marry his son? No matter what, you would have been miserable.
Ivos had actually freed you, and you loved him deeply.
#yandere terato#yandere x reader#my ocs#monster boyfriend#yandere boyfriend#yandere monster#male yandere x male reader#male reader#My OC Ivos#yandere dragon man#yandere dragon#yandere a/b/o#yandere alpha#omega reader#omegaverse#yandere omegaverse#omega male reader
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Just needed to get this out of my head after Sylus's Myth so i hope you like it :)
TW : drunk MC, fluff, it's sad I guess ? No proof read cause i'm a savage, english is not my mother tongue
“......tail ?”
“What did you just say kitten ?” Sylus asked, gently patting the back on your thigh while steadying you on his shoulder as you exited the elevator together, .
At first he had been quite surprised to receive your call.
Even more so when you bluntly asked him if he would be ok playing bodyguard and keep an eye on you while you indulged in a night of carefree debauchery at the club but hey, who was he to judge ?
Besides, if you felt safe enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him, going as far as trusting him with your safety and your apartment key to make sure you would make it back safe and sound, he was not going to complain.
“I….I said…ooooh that spins…do…do you ever miss your tail ?” you repeated, your voice tired and slurred, words barely comprehensive despite your best effort.
Sylus couldn’t help the chuckle that came as you poked his lower back through his jacket.
You really were wasted…
But you had a good reason !
Your week has been shitty as hell.
Your nights were even worse lately, barely getting a couple hours of sleep only to wake up either with a sore throat, screaming or crying at something you could not recall.
And, on top of that, you were off duty as Zayne decided you needed a break and refused to sign your abilitation.
“Come on Zayne, look, I’m fiiiiiiiiine” you tried to convince him with a huge smile and so much concealer on your face you could open your own makeup shop.
“As your physician I cannot let you go on field with such results” he retorted not even looking away from your chart “You should be dead with such a high blood pressure”
“I’m a tough cookie !”
“And you’re going to have to stay in the jar until these get better. You’re not only a danger for yourself right now but also for your partner”
That was a low blow but he had a point.
Clearly, you needed a break, something to unplug your brain, something fun, a good night out to leave all your problems behind and get shitfaced to oblivion. What you did not need though was the unwanted attention a young woman alone at the club would probably get and, while you were very capable of handling those kinds of situations, you did not really want to have to be on the lookout constantly or end up in a cell for assault.
You tried Tara, back to her family for the Holidays.
Simone ? Night shift.
Xavier….doing God knew what God knew where….
So, with a heavy heart you picked up your phone and called your secret weapon…
“Not necessary,” Sylus finally answered in a calm, composed voice, as he opened your apartment door, being extra careful as to not bump you in the doorframe. Based on the current humming coming from you right now and your kicking feet, your head was already going to kill you tomorrow.
Better not add “commotion” to the list of your impending issues.
“To be honest, being half human half cat was quite annoying” he admitted, walking you toward your bedroom to tuck you into bed. “I don’t like not being in control of myself and beside, it was bad for business to be away from the N109 zone for so long...although…I kind of enjoyed having to hide here and spend time with you…” he added with his signature smirk, poking your side before tossing you onto the bed, making you giggle like an idiot as you plopped on your back. It was the first time you allowed him into your room and, although he did plan on being a gentleman despite what you could think of him when sober, he couldn’t help the loving smile on his face as he watched you mumble something about a potato bag while fighting with your plushies for room.
“I miss you tail” you retorted in your drunk voice, closing your eyes in hopes it would help with the dizziness while Sylus started to remove your shoes and socks.
“I quite remember you telling me how insufferable it was” the man said in a collected tone while making his way to the kitchen once he was done.
“Yeah but it was sooooo pretty…I miss how you used it to grab me with it and…and toss me around ! That was funny !” you laughed, mimicking being tossed around like a ragdoll in the middle of your plushies as Sylus was coming back in your room, a glass of water in his hand.
He stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look on his face.
“I never use my cat tail to...toss you around” he corrected. His Evol, yeah, on a daily basis at some point actually, just to annoy you and enjoy those little lovely sounds coming from your mouth, threats mostly.
He had not been able to use it at all during the time those damn kittens from Hell had turned him into one of them though.
Your foggy brain did not hear him though and just kept mumbling in your drunken state, propping yourself on your elbows, trying to focus your gaze on him.
“You would think scales are cold and harsh…” you started, raising a finger to look all serious before falling back onto your pillow, not registering the look of surprise on his usually steady face.
“Kitten wh…” his voice was faltering as he looked at you getting all comfy like you had not just shaken his world upside down with your words.
“...but it was sooooo soft and sooooo warm…” you continued, grabbing your pillow to hold on tight as if you were looking for said warmth.
Your voice was starting to fade as sleep was settling in.
“...felt safe when you wrapped it around me…I kept holding mine to sleep after…but…”
The glass in his hand fell to the ground, shattering as he froze in place, eyes wide open in shock.
“…it was not…not the same…” you mumbled before losing consciousness, your body going limp against your pillow, before starting to snore.
______________________________________________________________ Pssssst, you liked it ? P2 is already up here :) https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/770227784125677568/a-few-days-ago-i-wrote-this?source=share
#sylus x mc#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#l&ds sylus x reader#lads sylus#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace#lads fanfic#sylus fluff#sylus angst
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Warm Embrace
Summary: Spencer and his wife explore ways to be intimate with each other after a traumatic event
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics!
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) referenced past SA of Reader (non-graphic), implied flashbacks, trauma related sexual problems, conversations about sex and intimacy, nudity, kissing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh riding
Word count: 5.4k
Masterlist
“Spencer?” Your voice echoed through the apartment when you stepped through the door and found no sign of your husband.
A distant sound came from the bathroom. “In here!”
After a quiet knock on the door and his confirmation that you could step in, you found Spencer sitting in the bathtub. The room was filled with the lavender scent of the bath soap and what you could see of his body was covered in bubbles. It almost looked comical how his knees stuck out of the water, making it obvious that the tub was not big enough to accommodate his long limbs.
“I was too tired to take a shower,” he explained after discovering your curious expression.
“I can see that,” you laughed. “I thought you hated taking baths.”
“Honestly, I think I’m starting to understand why you like them so much. This isn't too bad.”
You stood there for a few moments, smiling at the sight in front of you. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, you slowly began shedding your clothes.
“Mind if I join you?” you wondered.
Nothing about this situation would be unusual for any other married couple. Just a few months ago neither of you would have questioned your actions. Back then initiating any form of intimacy with each other felt natural and familiar.
Things were different now, though.
Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Are you sure about this?”
There was a reason to ask. For the past months any attempt to get close to each other resulted in you crying for the rest of the night. Something as simple as him placing his hand on your thigh was enough to startle you.
A sigh rolled over your lips as you dropped your shirt to the floor. “No,” you confessed. “But I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” he reminded you.
That was not what you meant and he knew that. Of course he understood the meaning of your words. Spencer was well aware of the fact that ever since that son of a bitch hurt you, you fought a constant battle between wanting his nearness and pushing him away.
Your husband gave you the space you needed and was there to hold you whenever you’d let him. It couldn't have been easy for him either but he never once complained about this new reality you had a live.
A reality where that person took something from you that you’d never get back. It was hard to shake this feeling of being tainted after having your physical integrity stripped away like that. You were distant and closed off when it came to intimacy, despite your best efforts to get back to what once was normal. It had been months since Spencer even saw you unclothed.
That was about to change.
Slowly, you pulled down your pants before reaching back to undo your bra. Spencer's sight followed the piece of clothing as it dropped to the floor before settling on your face again.
“Stop profiling me,” you warned him with a playful undertone in your voice.
“Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
By pulling down your panties, you shed your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare in front of your husband. It was a strange feeling to reveal yourself to him. It felt new yet familiar to allow him to see you.
However, he didn't dare to look, even when you approached the tub. It wasn't clear whether he just tried to be respectful or if seeing you like this for the first time after months was too much for him to bear. His reaction reminded you that he never answered your question about you joining him. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t okay with this.
Spencer’s eyes widened as he noticed the change of your mood before you did. Within a split second your heart started pounding and you stepped back to reach for your bathrobe.
“Sorry, this was a stupid idea,” you muttered as you turned around to shield your body from his sight and your heart from the rejection.
“My love,” he cooed from behind you.
The sound of splashing water gave away that he was exiting the tub. From the corner of your eyes you saw how he reached for his own robe.
You felt his presence behind you. “Can I touch you?”
You nodded as you turned around, finding him wrapped in his robe with water still dripping from his jawline. Spencer reached out his hands to pull you into his arms.
“What just happened?” He wondered, his voice laced with concern.
Before you could think about it, you mumbled, “You didn't want to look at me.”
Your husband thought about your words for a moment, replaying the scene that had just unfolded in his mind. What you said wasn’t true. He wanted to look at you, to admire you fully like he had done countless times before.
“I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable,” he confessed as he pulled back to be able to find your eyes.
It was hard to read your expression which was not surprising considering you were mostly confused about your current state yourself.
“I miss the way you used to look at my body. I miss being close to you,” you whispered and paused for a moment. “I miss… sex.”
He closed his eyes before placing an innocent kiss on your forehead. “I know,” he breathed. Me too, he thought.
“Do you still think about it?” You wanted to know.
“Sex?”
Nodding, you watched his facial features intently. Ever since your attack, there were many occasions when the two of you had tiptoed around this subject. But never before had you been so blunt about it.
It seemed like he was looking for the right words. “Yes, I do,” was what he settled on.
Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “With me?”
The insecurity in your question wasn’t lost on Spencer but he still couldn't hold back a breathy laugh. “Of course, silly girl. You're my wife.”
“It’s just been so long that I would understand if you ever thought about doing it with someone else.”
“Stop that right now,” he said with a firm yet loving tone. “I would never cheat on you.”
A shaky breath escaped your throat before you dared to say what had been bugging you for weeks now. “What if I’ll never be ready? What if things won’t ever be like before?”
“That would be okay, too,” he reassured you. “There are many ways to create nearness and intimacy. Sex is just one way but it’s not necessary. At least for me it’s not.”
“So you’d be okay to live without sex?”
“Before I met you I thought that was my only option,” he quipped.
You knew there had been a handful of women before you but you appreciated his joke nonetheless. It made you smile.
Spencer let his fingertips brush over your cheeks. “But to answer your question, yes, I would be okay with that.”
His words were genuine. The way he looked at you with the most loving expression made your heart jump. The amber of his irises radiated a warmth you could get drunk on. You nestled your head against his chest and he held you even closer against his body. He was right. Sex wasn’t necessary to create nearness. However, you were still curious about what else you felt safe enough to try.
“I want to get into the bathtub with you,” you whispered. “And I want you to look at me.”
Loosening the embrace, you looked at your husband. With a nod he confirmed that he wanted that, too.
With shaking fingers you brushed over his robe before gripping the material. “And I want to see you, too.”
Together you helped each other out of your robes until you stood bare in front of each other. You took a moment to admire the man in front of you. It had been a while since you had seen him like that. Unlike you he didn't deliberately hide his body from your sight but there hadn’t been many occasions in the past few months that allowed you to see him unclothed.
His body looked familiar yet different at the same time. His tummy was a little bit softer than you remembered and you imagined what it would feel like underneath your palm.
Spencer dared to let his eyes drop down to take in every inch of skin within sight. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and you noticed how it broke out in goosebumps.
“You're so beautiful,” he purred as he tentatively brushed over your arms.
Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before breathing against them, “So are you.”
He took your hand in his to walk you over to the bathtub. Your husband got in first, bending his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller than he was. There was enough space to join him, a relieved sigh falling from your lips when you felt the warm water enveloping your body.
First you sat a little awkwardly opposite one another for a few moments before you felt confident enough to get closer. Gently, you placed your hands on his knees to part them before moving closer to lean against his body sitting between his legs. Spencer’s heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage as you nestled against his chest.
“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure.
“Yeah, I uh… I’m not sure where to put my hands,” he chuckled and you noticed how they hovered above the edge of the bathtub.
Taking his hands in yours, you guided them towards the water, placing them underneath your chest. Even though you expected his touch, you still jerked when you felt his palms make contact with your body.
Instinctively, your husband wanted to retract his hands again but you held them still with your own palms pressed against them. Once the initial shock faded, you were certain that you wanted to be held exactly like that.
A part of you still wanted to fight this vulnerable situation but a much bigger, much more confident part longed to be close to the love of your life.
It was as if Spencer sensed your ambiguity. “You okay?”
“Yes,” you confirmed. Then you thought about the way your body flinched when he touched you. It had happened before each time Spencer had touched you in places that he had touched, too. “I just feel like my body has to relearn a couple of things.”
Spencer nodded before finally being able to relax a bit. He leaned back while holding you against him, relishing the sensation of having you close without any barriers between you. Just for a moment he forgot about what had happened to you and to your own surprise, so did you.
For the following weeks you made it a new habit to take baths with each other. There was something so sweet about getting clean together, it became a sacred ritual you wanted to repeat over and over.
Slowly but surely you got more comfortable around Spencer. There was a time when you didn't think it was possible that the two of you would cuddle every night and every morning without constantly having to fear that you’d freak out at any given moment.
But just like that it happened. Spencer didn't have to think twice about hugging you from behind and leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. He didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms when he woke up before you.
He did however wake up in shock and almost jumped out of bed when one morning he realized he had sleepily pressed his erection against your thigh. Having woken up before him, you had noticed it, too. You could have easily moved away but found no reason to do so.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured as he moved away from you, his voice still sounding raspy from his slumber.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Spencer. I know basic biology,” you snickered. “Now come back here.”
Hesitantly, he moved back towards your open arms. The warmth you radiated was too hard to resist so it took very little convincing for him to find his place inside your embrace again.
Gentle fingertips danced along his arms, making him hum in contentment. It had always amazed you how his skin felt so particularly soft and tender in the morning. His curls hung unruly from his head and you couldn't resist intertwining your fingers with them.
You thought back to the many times you had woken up like this. Back then when it still was normal for your hands to become curious enough to explore every curve and dip of each other’s bodies.
It was odd to think about before. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime away, other times it felt like nothing had ever changed. It made you feel like the man who hurt you had the power to bring a new time reckoning upon you. You didn't want him to.
It only spurred you further on to fully reclaim your body again.
Your fingers found Spencer’s jaw to tilt his head just enough for you to be able to kiss him. His lips felt so soft as he slowly reciprocated your actions. It was sweet and innocent at first but your desire to feel more of him only grew the longer you kissed. Slightly shifting your leg you could feel his hardness again, making him whimper at the sudden pressure against it.
As your hand found its way under his shirt, you brushed over the softness of his tummy. Shaking fingertips followed the trail of hair leading further down before changing their direction and moving upwards to feel his chest. The beating of his heart was faster than usual, almost erratic.
With cautious motions he mirrored your eagerness and let his palm wander beneath your shirt as well. You deepened the kiss when you felt his fingers wander over your waist, leaving goosebumps on their path. Spencer became hungry, almost desperate as his tongue brushed over yours, melting into you in a way he hadn’t for too long.
It was what you longed for too, what you had been hoping to finally be ready for.
Then he touched your breast and it all came crashing down again.
“Stop!”
Healing really wasn’t linear.
In an instant Spencer retracted his hand and leaned back to give you some space. Widened eyes looked back at him and it took both of you a second to realize what had just happened. Before he could apologize, you did.
“I’m sorry… I really thought I was okay with that.”
For a moment Spencer closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he looked at you again, a soft expression on his face. “Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for that,” he cooed.
Unlike other times, you were able to calm down quickly. Instead of pushing your husband further away, you still yearned for his proximity. He seemed surprised when you moved closer to him again to lay your head down on his chest. Content to still have the privilege to hold you close, he wrapped his arms around you before a relieved sigh fell from his lips.
There was no need to leave the comfort of your shared bed just yet, so you just lay there together, basking in each other’s warmth.
Spencer placed a gentle kiss into your hair before breathing, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
You tried your best to be kind to yourself in that moment. It was a learning opportunity for you. Just a few weeks ago lying close to your husband like that was unthinkable. Even if they felt like baby steps at the time, it was still progress.
The images of recent intimate encounters flooded your mind and let a pleasant calmness spread through your body. Spencer’s kisses tasted sweet and made you feel insatiable, always longing for more. Feeling his skin pressed against yours as he held you close in the bathtub enveloped you in a safe feeling unlike anything else.
You thought back to those rare moments when you considered taking things further lately, just like you had tried just now. There was something you had wondered about.
“I have noticed that when we cuddle…,” you began your sentence, unsure of how to continue. “Even when we’re naked in the bathtub together, you uhm… never get aroused? That was very different before.”
Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he let out an awkward laugh. “I try really hard not to. I think about baseball a lot.”
His response confused you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raised your eyebrows at him. “You think about baseball when we’re taking baths together? You don’t even like sports.”
Spencer just shrugged and added, “Sometimes I try to solve equations, too.”
“Please don’t do that anymore,” you pleaded as you laid back down beside him. “It makes me feel good to see you’re still interested in me.”
“Of course I am still interested. I just really do not want to make you uncomfortable or feel pressured in any way.”
Your words were genuine when you said, “I don’t think that will happen. I actually really liked seeing you in all of your morning glory earlier.”
Your husband smiled at you. “Yeah?”
A smirk formed on your face. “It reminded me of the countless times we were both late for work because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves after waking up.”
“That was fun,” Spencer chuckled. “What wasn’t fun though was the conversation I had to have with Hotch after being late four days in a row.”
His words made you laugh, too. Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, your husband hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you something?”
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you responded, “Of course.”
“You don’t have to answer this but I’m wondering… Do you ever get aroused in those moments, too?”
You were used to talking openly about intimacy with your husband, that had always been a normal part of your relationship. His question didn't feel odd and you wanted to respond to it.
For a long time after what happened, your longing to feel his nearness wasn’t connected to any sexual desires. At times you even felt like your libido had gotten lost entirely. Recently that had changed.
More and more you had become aware of the little spark inside you that was ignited when you were with him. It was very different from the burning flame that was there before but your desire grew each time you were together.
“Lately, yes,” you sincerely answered. Thinking about it some more, you decided to share another detail with him. “I even started uhm… touching myself again.”
Spencer seemed a little surprised by your response. “You did? That's good to hear.” His palm brushed gently over your arm when he added, “I can imagine that's a good way to feel a connection to your body and your needs.”
For a second you thought he might start one of his ramblings to share all his knowledge about the health benefits of masturbating. He didn't, though.
“Yeah, it feels nice. Almost normal,” you said instead. “I obviously still have a long way to go when it comes to sex but… I finally feel like I’ll actually get there, eventually.”
“There's no rush,” he reminded you. “We have all the time in the world.”
Your lips met his in a tender kiss. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”
After a few more moments of enjoying each other's company, it was time to get up and get ready for the workday. That night you found yourself tangled up in bed with your husband again.
As you breathed in his scent and felt the heat radiating off his skin, you noticed it again – the little spark inside your chest flared up and spread a tingling sensation through your body.
Your mouth found Spencer's neck to leave a trail of kisses along it, before it moved over his jawline and found his lips at last. He hummed when you kissed him and you could feel his fingertips twitching against your waist.
It didn't take long until you deepened the kiss, a quiet moan slipping through your lips when Spencer’s tongue found yours.
With your body pressed against his you didn't allow any distance between the two of you. It still wasn’t enough for you, though. There was too much fabric in the way of really feeling close to him.
Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt to grip it and impatiently push it upwards. Spencer moved with you as you pulled it over his head. When your fingers moved to the waistband of his pajama pants next, he interrupted the kiss to find your eyes.
A smile was painted over your face when you nodded, reassuring him that you were okay. You weren’t sure yet where exactly this was going but you felt safe enough to explore your options.
“We can stop or slow down at any point,” he reminded you.
“I know.”
After kissing him again, you sat up so you could continue undressing him. Slowly you pulled down his pants, an audible breath falling from your lips when you saw he was already half-hard.
Spencer scanned your face for any sign of discomfort but found none. What he saw instead was excitement and curiosity. It made him smile.
He sat up and brushed his hands over the fabric of your shirt. By lifting your arms over your head you gave him the sign he needed to remove the piece of fabric. He gently motioned for you to lay back down before he made contact with your hips, carefully brushing over your pajama shorts.
There was no hesitation to be found when you lifted your hips for him to pull them down, without ever breaking eye contact. You thought about how different this situation was from being naked with him in the bathtub. Some parts of you remained hidden from him even then.
You wanted him to see you, even when being exposed to him like that still felt a little scary.
After he had dropped the last piece of clothing on the floor, you dared to open your thighs for him to see every part of you. A rosy shade spread over his cheeks as he dared to look at you. It reminded you of when you were with him for the very first time many years ago.
Just like then, he breathed, “You're so beautiful.”
You could feel how some arousal had already gathered at your center and wondered if Spencer could see the glistening. By the way his pupils dilated you had a hunch that he did.
Then, after he had fully taken in your beauty, it was as if he was frozen in place. He used to be so confident in situations like that, knowing your body better than his own and never questioning his next move. Things were very different now and you both sensed it.
His eyes met yours and it became obvious how unsure he was of how to proceed.
Opening your arms, you cooed, “Come here, love.”
He seemed relieved when he lay back down beside you again. You wanted to kiss him but he hesitated.
After a moment, he suggested, “I think it would be helpful if you talked to me more. I need you to tell me exactly what you want to do.”
“I’m figuring this out as we go, too,” you explained. “Right now I don't know where this is going. I only know that I really want to kiss you.”
His nose brushed against yours. “I would really like that, too.”
Just a split second later you got lost in another kiss. The way your bodies were pressed against one another while your lips were connected let you briefly forget where your body ended and his began. After shifting your position, you became well aware of that again.
Spencer was fully hard now and his erection was firmly pressed against your thigh. You moved your leg slightly, prompting him to whimper into your mouth. The hand on your waist moved down to your hip and his fingertips pressed into your skin.
“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. “Can we slow down for a moment?”
His grip on your hip lightened immediately before he moved his hand back up to your waist. Spencer placed one last peck on your mouth and pulled back. “Do you want to stop?”
You shook your head. “No, I just need a little break. To make sure it doesn't get too much.”
The truth was that you felt really good in that moment. Excited, loved and so, so turned on. It just felt safer to take things slowly. Gently you pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. You found your home inside his arms.
Your lips grazed over his cheek as you breathed, “How are you feeling, Spencer?”
He chuckled at your question. “You have no idea how good I’m feeling right now.”
As you let your head rest on his shoulder, you dared to look down at his body. The extent of his desire laid on his stomach and you noticed how a bead of precum had formed at his tip. Your fingers itched to touch him, to remember how hot and heavy his cock always felt inside your palm.
A curious hand made its way down his chest, over the side of his stomach, brushing along his thigh. For a second you hesitated but then you let your palm hover over his hardness.
Then you felt a pit form in your stomach and decided to retract your hand again. It might have just been your nervousness but that didn't change the fact that you couldn't continue in this moment.
Your husband had watched each of your motions intently. It was obvious that he was burning to find relief.
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you purred, “I want you to feel good.”
“It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to,” he reminded you.
You knew that, of course. There was still something else you could do together.
As you began kissing his neck, his throat vibrated under your lips and a moan escaped his mouth. Then, you whispered into his ear, “I want you to touch yourself.”
Spencer’s eyes widened at your request and the rosy color on his cheeks turned a shade darker. It seemed like he needed a little more encouragement, so you lay back down inside his arm and opened your legs to give yourself access.
“Okay, I’ll start,” you teased as you let your hand wander down your own body.
Mesmerized by the sight, his eyes followed the path of your fingers. When you parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot, Spencer hissed a curse.
The honeyed wetness between your legs made it easy for your fingertips to move through your folds. It felt relieving to touch yourself like that. Just like Spencer you were yearning for release.
When your husband heard your heavy sighs as you pleasured yourself, he couldn't hold back anymore. You watched as his hand found his cock, a view that let your heart pound inside your chest.
First, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and squeezed, prompting droplets of his arousal to run down his tip. Then, he swiped his thumb over the leaking head before he slowly began moving up and down. Your mouth hung open as you watched that sinful scene unfold in front of you.
As Spencer accelerated the pace of his fist, sounds of pleasure filled the room. His eyebrows were scrunched up and desperation was written all over his face.
He had never looked more beautiful.
Distracted by the mesmerizing view, the hand at your core stopped moving. Instead of continuing, you let it wander away from your body to touch Spencer’s thigh. Before you could overthink it, your hand kept moving to his center.
A heavy breath fell from his lips as your fingertips cautiously brushed over the velvety skin of his balls, making his body jerk underneath you. Smiling to yourself, you remembered how sensitive he was.
Spencer stopped moving his hand, waiting to see how you’d proceed. When you touched the soft curls at his base, he whimpered. It was then that you realized that you were not scared anymore and that your nervousness had turned into excitement.
“Can I continue?”
Spencer audibly gulped before removing his hand. “Yes… please.”
When you wrapped your fingers around his length, both of you moaned in unison. Holding him in your hand like that felt both familiar and novel at the same time. You started moving your palm and quickly remembered how exactly he liked to be touched.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels good!”
With all the built-up tension and those months of abstinence, it only took a few moments until Spencer was getting close to reaching his point of no return. Familiar with all the telltale signs of his impending climax, you continued caressing him. Coming closer to his undoing, his cock twitched inside your palm and his entire body started quivering.
His release began spilling over your hand and onto his stomach while he kept pulsing against your fingers. You kissed his jaw and his neck before you reached for the tissues on your nightstand to do some damage control of the mess you had created.
Your husband’s chest was still heaving when you finished cleaning him up. Concern was written all over his face when he found your eyes.
He pulled you back into his embrace as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah I am. That was really fun,” you snickered.
Spencer's hand brushed over your back as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”
The truth was that your entire body was aching for his touch. You could feel the heat burning between your legs and were aware that your arousal had started coating the insides of your thighs. It had been a long time since you’d felt so turned on.
And yet, the thought of him actually doing something about it made you nervous.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I would like to kiss you again, though.”
He let out a breathy laugh before finding your mouth once more. Feeling his lips on yours only blazed up the fire burning inside you. You shifted your position until you were hovering over your husband, one of his thighs pressed between yours.
Tentatively you began rocking your hips against his leg, sighing as you realized how pleasant the friction was.
“Is that okay?” You breathed against his lips as you kept moving.
“More than okay,” he reassured you. “Use my body however you like.”
You sat up as you ground against his skin, feeling him tense his thigh underneath you. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your hips so he could help you move. Soon you had created a mess on his leg as you spread your wetness along his skin.
With your entire entire body twitching, your motions became erratic. Looking down at Spencer, you found him staring at you with lust-filled eyes and a wicked grin painted over his face.
As you danced along the edge of euphoria, you forgot your surroundings. It was only you and him right then. “I love you,” you whimpered and before your husband could respond, you collapsed into his arms as pleasure overcame you. You kept pressing your core against his leg as your whole body shook.
Spencer held you firmly inside his arms as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you more.”
After your heart rate had come down to a normal frequency and you weren’t panting anymore, you kissed your husband.
“How are you feeling?” He wanted to know.
“Good. And also a little sticky,” you snickered, hinting at the mess you had created between your legs.
“Yeah, me too,” Spencer chuckled. “How about I run us a bath so we can get cleaned up?”
The prospect of that made your heart flutter. “That sounds wonderful.”
Author's Note: Writing this story took me two years and I am so relieved I was finally able to get it to paper. I hope reading it felt as cathartic for you as writing it was for me. Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a reblog and a comment.
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